Amor Numquam Moritur
by Allasvitkona
Summary: Harry's only motivation for being an innocent low level Death Eater is his obsession with the Dark Lord, which sometimes is love, sometimes is hate and this burning passion he cannot quell, whatever he does. So he must have him.
1. Chapter 1-The Yearning

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: **HP/LV**

**AU Universe**

AMOR NUNQUAM MORITUR

_Love never dies_

"Do you hate me?"

"Yes. With ardor…"

…

"_Do you love me?"_

"Yes. _With ardor_..."

Bright green eyes watched with contained awe the imposing dark figure of his master presiding over his Death Eaters.

His heart was beating in his chest, constricted with powerful vibes of love and hate he had for this man. First, it was love. Then, followed the hate. Like an unwanted parasite.

The speech He was saying was inspiring, His voice deep, His posture right and His personality charismatic. A great sadness was tearing apart his whole being, overwhelmed as he was by the power of this unique man. He wasn't the only one, the other followers were also admiring their Lord, but Harry felt he was the only one who could understand his person, the only one who longed so desperately for at least a small glance thrown his way, or for that mysterious smile appearing on the man's cunning lips, that would be enough to brighten his day only remembering it.

Lord Voldemort was the greatest Dark Lord of all history until now.

And Harry Potter was just a small black spot among many others.

Not even once, the deep crimson eyes glanced his way. After all, he was just a low level servant. Not worth noticing.

* * *

Harry was walking silently through the luminous forest surrounding Slyhterin Castle. He treaded this path way too many times. He memorized beautiful chalky stones, gnarled trees, young crops and season flowers…He was meditating to the sounds of birds…At least, here was a blissful refuge he didn't think he could find anywhere else. Simply put that his heart felt like he belonged to this place only, even more than Hogwarts, his first home.

Before coming at Hogwarts, he had felt so out of place, undesired and unimportant. It was inconsequential that he felt unimportant even now, but what can you do…

Because his parents died when he was a baby, killed by the treason of the Light wizards who were losing the war against the dark side, one of them, who obviously knew his parents, decided to drop him off to his Aunt from his mother side.

It was an attempt to get rid of him in a guilty free way for that person's conscience.

Only Harry didn't fare too well with the Dursleys. He grew up lonely, sad, feeling lack of love too many times and having big dreams only to be squashed by his narrow-minded relatives. They put him to work for them, do their chores, sometimes starving and keeping him from his homework for school or Hogwarts. At least they never beat him. Their influence has manifested in his low level of self-esteem and confidence, which he still had trouble rising up.

He was so happy, after graduating Hogwarts that he had found a place as a Healer inside Slytherin Manor. He wasn't a Death Eater in all sense, that place was reserved for the elite only, and there were two stages for the elite: Inner Circle, Outer Circle. The associates members, like him, only wore a band with the famous mark, which was tightening and burned when he was called occasionally to raids. He was almost never called in battles to fight; he mostly came to be in the Healer's team. Harry was a good apprentice for healing, even if he didn't have a master yet, he was just learning from a variety of the other master healers. They were all too busy and already had other apprentices to take care of to also take him in, but Harry didn't mind so much. After all, he could very well study on his own and he had a lot more free time.

Yet, even if he wasn't even called with the mission to participate in battles, Harry took part to each and every one of them, risking his life and challenging himself.

Most of the time, he himself was the one to be brought to be healed, because of his poor battle skills. But Harry just couldn't let the others, friends or not, fight on their own, while he was aware about the importance of his Lord's mission.

It was four years already since he was in the service of the Dark Lord. He turned twenty one a week before, but he didn't even celebrate it. His friends from Hogwarts, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were on their honeymoon together and already working for the current Ministry.

The biggest problem threatening the new regime now were the vampires, who, in the Dark Lord's and Harry's opinion were uncontrolled beasts that needed to be restricted. And quickly.

The vampires had profited over the loss of influence the Light wizard had held on them and were creating havoc in order to get a beneficial standing in the Wizarding World. Even as dark creatures they were, the freedom granted initially by the Dark Lord wasn't enough for them.

Ungrateful creatures, Harry thought, breaking a lush leaf from a tree nearby. It was a walnut tree, from the specific strong smell that remained on his hand and reaching his nostrils. The new regime and Ministry was way better than the last one, economy was flourishing, Wizarding population as well, also light wizards and witches could live very well in neutrality, it wasn't as if the Dark Lord was tracing to kill every light wizard.

And the battles against vampires were especially vicious, Harry was lucky with Draco and his gang of friends who were lending him a hand from time to time. Even if they were treating him like a girl who needed protection.

But Harry didn't consider himself defenseless. His good points were that he was extraordinary agile to jump from the trajectory of hexes, he was especially skilled to stumble in the legs of other people and impede them in throwing curses, and he was often spoke badly because of it. Everyone knew he was kind of a clumsy person. Disastrously so…And let's not forget, how many times he got to be in the place of the bait…

Just last battle, two days ago, Lucius Malfoy got angry with Harry, because he had so obviously revealed the place where they were hiding, that he sent him with Goyle in front of them all, to lead the vampires on a faux path. That didn't work so well for him. At least the Dark Lord had not been on that battle, to witness his deep shame.

He was maybe…maybe just a little bit tired of furiously fighting and getting wounded and suffering from the mocking glances thrown his way because of what motivation? What was his really motivation for fighting like this? _Because_ he was so enamored since he couldn't remember when, with this one man, with this powerful wizard and he felt it so strongly like his soul was bound to _Him_! _Because_ he couldn't betray, and he couldn't give him up, no matter what! There were no other significant temptation, no other dream, and no other purpose. His dream in life was to be once _looked_ at by those dark intense eyes, _kissed_ at least once by that cunning mouth, at least once _embraced_ by that godly statue of immense euphoric power, _claiming_ him forever…it didn't matter that he would be thrown in the abyss after that.

Many times, Harry imagined just getting it over it with his obsession. To find a way to the Dark Lord's rooms, wait for Him there and offer himself to him. So he could finish with his obsession, if that is what it was. What, it wasn't possible? He could do it…when his heart was possessed by this particular madness, he envisioned many things impossible possible. It would be good to control his overly emotional side. Like what he was trying to do now, outside in the forest. Otherwise, he would be inside, trying to get a glimpse at the Dark Lord in any way possible. He was the perfect stalker.

Since the grounds of the Slytherin castle were so large, he didn't fear any intrusion on his privacy. There was also a park, a Quidditch field, a training camp…many others until the Forest. But, as it was beginning to grow dark, he decided to head off back. Maybe he could sneak a bit around and find out his Lord's whereabouts? A glance would be enough to pass the lonely night in his small and cold dorm near the kitchens, in the lowly level of the castle.

The only lower level of the castle was the dungeons for the prisoners, actually. Harry didn't mind it though, as long as he was passing the night with a happy heart.

He sometimes dreamed of the Dark Lord, visiting him in secret in his cramped and cold bedroom, warming him up in the small bed of his. Yes, he definitely could feel himself getting warmer, only from imagining it…

* * *

"_You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul."_

Time seemed to stay in place, like in a fairy tale. The only moments when Harry felt like he was doing something, was during battles. That's why he was on the opinion that it would be good to receive some mission, to prove himself. Alas, no one was giving him the chance. They all wanted something for themselves, pursuing their own benefit.

There were a lot of young supporters of the Dark Lord vying for His attention and wanting to become his Death Eaters. They were the ones ready to do every crazy thing they were asked. Harry was disgusted by them, seeing their selfish motivation. Even Crabbe and Goyle had high aspirations, like making it in the Inner Circle. Both of them were oozing airs of self- importance to anyone near them. In big part, this was the general atmosphere in Slytherin Castle: there was a center, the Dark Lord, and there were the objects, gravitating around the center like planets.

Harry didn't want position, high rank or power. He just wanted his Dark Lord. He needed his love, his attention, positive or negative, it didn't matter.

But as he was basically nothing of importance in this castle, how could his Lord be aware of his existence? Harry tried. Really tried in his battles for results, but he wasn't a mindless killer, he was a healer after all… He understood the purpose of life, why other people should not kill, blame, hurt others mindlessly. The human nature has a conscience that needed to be nurtured as well.

So what should he do now? This state of internal contradiction was killing him! He needed to take some action, be owner of his life, feel the life throbbing in his hands, the energy that he can use, the will and super power of the sub consciousness that he can control.

Sometimes, he just wished to go out. Disappear somewhere and break contact with everybody. But will that make him happy? Will he find purpose to live? Love was the drive in life, without him loving the Dark Lord he would loose himself completely, he would become a different, bitter person, he just knew it. Loving Voldemort kept him safe.

* * *

AN. This story was posted under another older account of mine which I don't need anymore. It has a lot of importance to me, as the feelings put in this story, at least I experienced them in my life. Thank you for reading, if you did! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2-Love Letter

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: **HP/LV**

**AU Universe**

Chapter Two

**AMOR NUNQUAM MORITUR**

*(*)*

Harry woke up the next day with his usual restlessness. The restlessness of a enamoured soul. He dragged the moments until the alarm sounded at six and he cursed he woke up before it.

His bedroom was crowded with all sorts of things, potions vials and books about medico wizardry like 'The Muggle Way-Medicine or Food Poisoning?' or 'The Three Magical Methods of Universal Healing' or '12 Uses of Dragon Blood', by Albus Dumbledore. Not quite a loved book that one, but very classical and useful.

'Quidditch through the Ages' was atop a box of bottled Butterbeer and crumbs from all kinds of cookies were all over the place. The entire crammed place was quite a mess, and an elf a week wasn't very productive.

Harry wouldn't care. He lazily flicked his wand and pointed it in different places, cleaning the place with nonverbal inoffensive charms. The grime lifted just a bit. It was useless, anyway and it was his personal place. Nobody ever came here.

At half past six he finished showering, donned a simple black cloak with the Dark Mark insignia on his arm and an H under it. H for the Healing team. He tried to arrange his hair better and sighed when it rebelled. He was ready to go.

There were people and elves all over the main corridors and the Hall room was full of chattering, mostly were women flocked together. Harry found a place to sit at an empty table and he ate, his eyes scanning the main table and the big ornate chair from the middle. It was a monstrous thing, with dragons gilded all over it. The Dark Lord's chair and he sometimes ate with all of them, because meeting time was never enough. Of course, usually the Inner Circle was eating at the main table, and occasionally somebody was called for a special audience during meals, but it wasn't often. If, Harry suddenly got better at killing and he would kill, let's say 100 vampires in a day, and also found some important plan of the enemies, combined with killing a leader vampire, then maybe he would be called. As it was, Harry couldn't even kill one vampire in a year.

Finishing his meal, he went to stay near the Healing Team. Healing Masters were five in total. One Korean, who dealt with disease of the inner structure of nerves and also mind, His name was Cheonsa Jeong. It was Harry's favourite Master. He was also very handsome and charismatic but alas, he was married and he had children. Harry admired him and it remained like this.

The second was a Slovenian blonde witch, very quick with combating deadly curses on patients. Her name was Maya Mares and she was professional in her work.

The third one was a stuck up foolish git, David Hara, a British who took everyone in derision because he thought he was the best. The reason the team wasn't going well many times.

Fourth was Dr. Zaitri, who everyone knew preferred Muggle Healing sometimes and was crazy at magical experiments. Harry avoided him because it didn't look like he could learn something useful from him.

And the last one was Italian, Simone Serena, who was as serene as his last name, and very patient. He would take full hours to explain and explain again in theory or practice, never once wavering in emotions. He was also very generous. All Masters were over forty, some even were older than their age showed. They were very good, and the standard of their teaching was academic. Voldemort gave instructions for the Healing Masters to form the best bunch of healers in England, all at the disposal of the Dark Lord.

He approached the table with trepidation and managed to slide in a chair next to Luna, who greeted him with a soft voice 'Good morning, Harry! I see no wrackspurts around your head today'.

Harry also smiled a relieved smile that no body else noticed him.

'Hello, he said in a guttural low voice. And this is good, no?'

Luna shrugged and drank her caffelatte in such a way it let a white streak on her pale lips.

'Basically, yes. It means your mind will be prone to revelations and vulnerable to the heart.' She responded and Harry nodded in apparent understanding. He didn't understand, of course, but he trusted Luna.

He sighed and looked around the bustling table at his team mates, some of them former Hogwarts students, others from abroad. He took out his books from the bag and began to read. Every week, before going practice or to real practice in real life, they had to present a chapter they learned. Most of the time, students were reading or discussing, but today excitement and a curious thrill hang in the air.

Harry noticed Mr. Jeong was the center of attention at their table and he was frowning in confusion at a paper in his hand. The reason why nobody noticed Harry today. Usually, Mr. Jeong was the one calling Harry to him quite often and asking questions, in a way it made Harry think that he cared about him. Also, the man always shared his food with him, the Korean style and Harry was grateful for all his investment.

Laughter and loud voices were heard all around him and everyone was watching. Harry focused too on hearing what was said.

' …elegant like a tiger. Your hair is as dark as a raven's feather and your skin is unblemished and honey like, and I wish to kiss it all. Your dark deep eyes took my heart in a cage and only you can liberate it. Oh my beloved angel, please, hear my plea, lie with me….' Mr. Jeong was reading and looking incredulous with each word while everybody roared in laughter.

Harry threw a confused look at Luna and she answered simply.

'He received a love letter from somebody anonymous. He seems pleased, no? Luna said.

'Hmm, a good increase for his ego maybe, but it sounds completely cheesy!' complained Harry.

Luna threw him a look, narrowing her eyed at him knowingly. She said convincingly:

'No, Harry, you just never considered writing a declaration of love like this. It's quite a good idea. And very romantic' she added dreamily.' I would be happy receiving one'.

Harry choked on his black tea. Of course he wouldn't do something so cheesy like this!

He mouthed in disgust and amusement 'hear my plea, fall with me' from the letter, and it seemed stuck in his head. Who could send such a letter to the respectable Mr. Jeong, Harry wondered, and looked again at the cheery group.

Mr. Jeong was turning the paper on all faces, looking for a clue.

'I cannot believe this! It must be a joke, I have children! How they send a letter like this, I never received such a letter! He said something more in Korean that nobody understood but they laughed harder because he seemed in such an unusual predicament. He was a moral person, and he was surprised and flustered, but not angry.

Harry smiled and contemplated his fingernails.

He sighed and looked around at the bustling room. Still no Dark Lord.

* * *

Later, after going to one class of Spell's practice with David Hara and an extremely long time spent in the company of Severus Snape, who hated him with no reason, Harry was already very tired. Snape put him to prepare and chop all kinds of ingredients for his potions. It wasn't required of Harry to do this, but Snape came in the teaching classroom and asked for an assistant for all he had to prepare at Dark Lord's request. And Hara recommended Harry, glad to be rid of him. Harry tightened his lips. He needed more to practice spells than chop never ending worms. He was going to be left behind, while everybody received something more important to do; he was going to stay a disposable assistant forever.

Sighing and tightening his lips in disappointment, he brushed the mane of a palomino horse. He was at the Manor Stables because he enjoyed taking care of the animals. It was a choice before finishing Hogwarts to go to the Magizoology School or to the Healing Magical Academy. In the end, he chose Healing, but he still liked animals.

The stables were full of Winged Horses from different races, but mostly Abraxan and Aethonan, popular in Britain and Ireland, but there were also many Thestrals that were given free reign in the forest, some Hippogriffs and even some Unicorns in a secluded area which was open as well to the forest.

But Harry most loved the Griffin. It belonged to the Dark Lord and everyone knew how much the Griffin had hated the Dark Lord in the beginning. Nobody dared to fly on griffins because they were known for their fierce nature and proud attitude, even more than Hippogriffs. Even if the Dark Lord managed to rein this one, it couldn't be tamed. Harry went in the stable of the griffin after checking the horses and he plopped himself down a top a mound of hay.

The magnificent creature had the front legs and head of a giant and wise eagle but the body and its hind legs were of a lion. It looked very comfortable to ride on, Harry mused and he delighted in watching the light reflecting and splaying on top of the golden creature. It was now occupied devouring a rabbit. The griffin didn't look so hungry so it watched Harry curiously.

Harry came near it and knelt near one of its legs, caressing the feathers until they transformed into a shiny mane. Harry sighed in contentment especially as one wing came and rested above him. The griffin smelled extremely nice, of something encompassing the sunny peaceful days and comfort.

He knew why he came here. He could make his homework in peace and he could practice spells more easily. His magic was much more tuned near the griffin, as if enhanced.

He took out a piece of parchment and his quill and started commenting on the third use of dragon blood.

'Dragon blood is dangerous in its undiluted natural state, but if taken and let one night of full moon outside, the magical properties change and they…'

Harry remembered the very outrageous letter Mr. Jeong received that day. He said later that love is free, and it's not forbidden to love, but he said again he loved his wife and children as if afraid to make room for doubt or maybe, a face to face declaration.

He mused and caressed his lips in thought.

'It wouldn't be a bad idea, no? He asked the air. 'Writing a letter, I mean. Especially if I don't sign it.' The griffin purred in answer and stroked his head with his wing, almost pushing Harry down.

Harry stuffed his homework parchment in his bag, taking out a new one and he began writing on this one furiously.

* * *

Harry lost himself into writing. Without him noticing, night fell over Slytherin Manor and the griffin was sleeping quietly near. His eagle feather was flying over yellowed parchment and an empty cup of coffee lay near his elbow. He was filling pages with his obsession. He thought he could send it somehow with an anonymous owl.

So engrossed he was that he didn't even notice the big shadow falling over the room, and the wizard who came with it.

'The novices are making their homework on my personal animals now, do they?' a deep and cutting voice disturbed the peaceful state of Harry. His eyes widened taking in the Dark Lord, from his dark boots and his cloak to the mesmerizing face and the narrowed eyes. He didn't know what to make with himself.

'Ohhh, I- I was…' he stumbled, too shocked to speak. Of course, sometimes, dark lords were visiting even their animals...

'So you are….who?' the dark lord asked sharply. 'Do not make me wait'.

'I am…as you see, doing my homework' Harry mumbled and hastily hid all the parchment with the love all over it under his cloak, at the belt.

The dark lord raised an eyebrow at this and he thinned his lips that even Harry noticed.

'The name, boy or I'll feed you to the griffin!' and he didn't wait and he gripped Harry's right arm and looked for the Dark Mark, which wasn't there.

'Of course, I would have remembered you if I gave you the Mark' He said softly.

Meanwhile Harry had his fill of the Dark Lord's touch and the contrast His hand had on his seemed like an entirely otherworldly occurrence. Like out of his dreams!

His eyes were shining in the moonlight and his lips were too aware of themselves. He breathed with difficulty, trying to catch a sniff of the object of his desire.

Noticing Harry's cloak, and the Healer's Dark Mark on it, the dark lord let him go, unfortunately.

Harry then remembered fear.

'So you're from the Healer's Team? Did you remember your name now?' Voldemort asked, his lips curling a little bit, looking him up and down.

'Ah, yes! My name is Harry James Potter' he said hopefully. In his mind, "_He asked my name!" _He didn't know why, but this seemed very important somehow.

'And _this_ is your homework' said the Dark Lord flatly.

Harry's wide eyes froze over his parchment that was now in Voldemort's hands. He swallowed hard and moved forward looking beseechingly at the dark lord, without even realizing how daringly close he was to him.

'Well, no, not exactly' Harry's voice trembled. 'Please don't read it' he implored, looking straight into the dark red eyes, feeling as if the earth was crumbling around him.

He didn't know how much he stayed there, seemingly out of time, smell of coffee still on his lips, counting the dark lashes of his obsession, watching the beautiful face contours and the black hair as midnight, such a beautiful vision! The dark lord took his time to look at his notes, which he kept with the tips of his long fingers, and his mouth was frowning in a cunning way, while he was reading aloud.

'_I am writing to you to let you know, I have loved you for a very long time.._' What a promising beginning' said the dark lord evilly amused.

Harry's ears perked up like a cat's at hearing the word love coming from the dark lord's lips. Knowing the dark lord was reading the letter destined to him was making him shiver like a leaf, and he felt as if he was falling from a big mountain's cliff into the abyss.

The dark lord continued reading, seeing the reddened tormented face that Harry made.

'_My life is actually measured in how many happy moments I had just from your inspiring presence around me, your magic filling the space, that I am so addicted to it that I could never walk two kilometers away from you without feeling that I already miss you so much_.' The dark lord finished speaking smirking at he words. 'Nice homework, I wonder who asked it of you? _Harry_?' he asked, sinking his too knowing eyes in the deep of Harry's wide green eyes.

He watched Harry curiously from beneath his dark lashes.

_'I admired you and your way of being since I saw you from the first time and I wanted to be like you, I wished to be around you and being granted the honour of serving you, giving you all my loyalty, wanting you to use me, so that my life can have a meaning_…' And so it continued. Cruelly for him. Harry closed his eyes, feeling close to tears.

He hadn't mentioned the dark lord's name or his status nowhere in the text, but he had to deny and not flinch even if Voldemort was suspicious he was lying. It would bring nothing good for the Dark lord to find out Harry liked him.

It was incredibly intense, having his feelings out in the open like this. Harry was trembling worse than in any attack from the vampires and he felt awful, like his heart was screaming in earning. He lifted his right hand to his heart, trying to ease the pain by massaging.

The dark lord still watched him, and having read everything, waited for an answer.

'It seems to me you just watch from afar, a mere infatuation' the dark lord declared, challenging Harry with his hard gaze.

Somehow, those words stung. Harry shook his head in denial.

'How old are you now?' asked the dark lord sharply. 'Eighteen? Nineteen?'

'Twenty one' mumbled Harry distressed. 'And it's not a mere infatuation, as you put it, my lord, just the conditions are against me'.

'You're a mature person but to me it seems you didn't have the courage to make the slightest action and take what you want. When you want something, you fight for it, no? You don't just give up, for others to take…' lectured the dark lord, and Harry completely agreed with him, but in the same time the 'impossible' was still hanging at the edge of his sight.

'Who is this person you claim to love so much then?'

'It's a man' murmured Harry.

'_That_ I noticed by myself' said the dark lord, smiling imperceptibly. 'And is this troubling you? Because _it's a man_?

'No, I guess. But I just like this man only, not others' answered Harry embarrassed, looking at the straw covered ground.

He decided he could be truthful. A little bit at least.

'It's just that…it's …' he bit his lower lip and started again with a stronger voice, looking at the details of Voldemort's black robes. 'This person is very powerful and wouldn't have any need of somebody like me around, and that's why he didn't notice me until now.' Seeing the unbelieving look from the dark lord, he went on. 'And it would be fruitless trying anything to get his attention! I would look really stupid.'

He chanced a look at the now pensive wizard leaning on a post with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked so imposing, and so relaxed at the same time, just observing Harry, taking him in. Harry felt very grateful for this chance it appeared to see the dark lord, just for himself.

Daring to look into the smouldering red eyes and trying to act normal, he lastly said.

"Actually, I content myself with just seeing that person, learning from afar. It's no problem, really! I suffer a little bit, but it's also beautiful…What I want to sacrifice for him' he trailed off, loosing his courage. 'I don't feel sorry for it' he finally said, with honesty tinging his voice.

Playing with the edge of his shirt, and looking at the now awaken griffin he avoided looking in the dark lord's direction.

He heard a sigh, and he turned expectantly.

Voldemort huffed.

'I don't claim that I understand such romantic feelings that young people have these days' he said, looking like he really tried to understand, but couldn't. He also seemed lost in his thoughts.

He gave Harry his parchment back and went to pat his griffin, who began nibbling on his sleeves, seemingly happy.

'And…' he turned to look at Harry, who raised his eyes to his expectantly.

'Well, if you've had the misfortune to fall in love with such a Korean wizard like Jeong, than maybe is better you move on.'

Harry nodded, happy he was suspected just for Mr. Jeong, maybe because of the letter incident from the morning.

The dark lord looked at him sternly.

'What are you still doing here Potter? There is a battle preparation tomorrow. You should go sleep while you can.'

'Ah yes, my lord, Harry said, bowing on his way out. 'Good night, my lord' and he left before his master could change his mind about anything.

Outside, he inhaled the fresh air, shaking his head in wonder of finally meeting him. He felt so excited and happy! Just as a snake who finally shed the skin, or like a Muggle who finished the dentist appointment.

When he went to sleep, he replayed the whole evening over and over again, until he sank into darkness where He was, and his warmth was all around him, possessing him, protecting and his magic was singing in contentment.

Long multi-colored vines of leaves were rustling softly in a magical light, and he saw a hand coming through parting the leaves and he was facing him, he was telling him 'You'll be mine…' And Harry agreed like to a promise, said 'Yes' and Magic sealed the Oath.

The love letter was laid on the table, beautiful memory in his heart now...

* * *

AN: A really big thank youuu for all the encouragement I received so far, I had had really such cute lovely reviews!

And yes, sorry for the long wait...it's good readers here to wake me up, I tend to get lost sometimes ;)

Oh, don't forget, review if you can :) ^_^


	3. Chapter 3- A Bride for Death

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: **HP/LV**

**AU Universe**

**AMOR NUNQUAM MORITUR**

_Love never dies_

Chapter Three

**A Bride for Death**

***(*)***

The next day, indeed there were preparations for a raid. All degrees of Death Eaters were required to participate, like it was the norm.

At the Dark Lord command, they had to attack and annihilate a full village of vampires camped near a Wizarding village in Austria. It was a warning for the vampire population at large, because they still refused to sign treaty with wizards.

The entire Death Eater combat ranks were arranged outside, some on brooms, the Inner Circle had Thestrals and the Dark Lord had his Griffin.

The vampire leader had his headquarter in the Romanian Carpathian Mountains as it was since centuries ago and demanded attention. Maybe he felt too safe in the unplottable fortress he had as what was called The Vampire Lair.

The name was giving Harry the creeps. Actually, he's been once in Romania, in the peaceful heart of the country which was called Transylvania and he could see for himself how much wild the nature and everything was there. It would have been ethereally beautiful if it weren't for the vampires. Wizarding world was medieval but also the Muggle one was the same. There was another small medieval town, named Sighisoara which was example of cooperation between the Wizarding and Muggle world. Wizarding in this context meant wizards plus other creatures, living in the same place. All would have been good, had the vampires limited to their own country, because no one cared about Romania after all.

It was rumoured that the flood of vampires had to do with some wizard's secret order from there so that's why a team has been sent to spy in the vampire's own country. If it were, it wasn't anything big, and so the Dark Lord decided to leave them alone. Instead, he kept track of the groups of vampires in other countries and when their numbers increased he was organizing raids.

This method was proven to be good. Usually, they managed to have very peaceful months after days of slaughtering and bloodshed and another round of nights spent drinking and clubbing or even orgies. The blood lust was appeased on both sides, for wizards and vampires.

Harry prepared well for this day. He was clad in black combat clothes, very comfy and which were permitting liberty of movement. He kept the wand in a wand holster which also had a hidden pouch with potion vials for healing, in case he was chosen to participate as a Healer apprentice. But until now, he didn't get so many chances as he has been too many times chosen to fight alongside the other dueling wizards.

Some would say he had to prove his side. Actually, Harry was more than sure _this_ was the reason for all the animosity and cruel comments he's had until now. Because James and Lily Potter have been Light and followers of Dumbledore, Harry was still suspected of being a traitor in disguise, the unknown pawn in the game. The one most found guilty.

Harry had to prove himself over and over again but the people who knew his parents in their youth all criticized and impeded Harry, with their words or actions.

People like Malfoy, Lestrange, Snape, Rosier and all other Pureblooded families. When Harry remembered…Ah, when he remembered all the judgment, all the pain, how much he hated them all!

Lucius Malfoy using him as bait, all the time his life in danger because they were _using_ him because they wanted him to _die_!

Harry's fingers clamped down on themselves until they were white.

He waited impassively for him to be chosen. White or Black?

Healer or Murderer?

Even if he was killing vampires, which wasn't so easy, the day would be of strife and blood and the memories will be hard to forget.

The leaders of the battle were choosing their fight mates conforming to the plans which weren't divulged outside the Inner Circle meetings.

Harry saw Draco got to go with Blaise and Snape together and some other tough wizards with a relatively small team. Harry suspected it was the key team in the plan.

And soon it will be the main team. Oh yes, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange with their own desperate for blood fighters and they took David Hara and some other apprentices too. Harry was very glad not to have been chosen by them.

Now came the turn of the sacrificing brave team, which had to provoke the vampires. The better name for it would be the team with the disagreeable people, muggleborns, half bloods, half breeds, unsure loyalties etc.

Even if the teams weren't the same or weren't even acknowledged as such, the order, the choosing was very much like this. What use to make other battle plans, when the old ones always worked? Vampires were stupid beasts after all… And they didn't grow or were born smarter.

.

To Harry's disappointment, Lucius Malfoy was the next leader and Greyback was his right arm. Harry looked around him to see there weren't many apprentices or wizards to be chosen left. Most went into the main battling one.

Everybody was watching now silently. The Dark Lord was frowning, also witnessing the choosing. Harry had the impression that Voldemort looked for a fleeting moment at him but he couldn't be sure.

He went with his head held high and again, impassive when he was called to stay right besides Greyback. It seemed he had to share the Thestrals with the werewolf.

.

To the twisted smiles he received, his face remained calm. To his friends, he answered with a comforting smile.

His mask may have broke only a little when Mr. Jeong threw him a worried look then went to stay in the Dark Lord's own group, probably as their Healer.

But Harry wouldn't get the chance to be a Healer today.

He will be bait. He climbed behind Greyback and tried to ignore the unpleasant animal smell the werewolf had. Scent of earth and sweat. Smell of blood and death.

And he put off holding onto him until the last moment when the Thestral finally lifted in the cloudy sky.

He had a bad feeling about it all.

Harry started the day bad and unless something shocking and unforeseen happened, it would continue to be terrible.

*(*)*

Harry stood just inside the edge of the trees, frowning at what he saw. The Thestral nuzzled his shoulder. He held his cloak close against the wind. It would have been warm spring back in England but mountains in Austria were _cold_. Shining brightly between gray clouds that sailed quickly, the sun still lay a little short of midday. The moment vampires were at their weakest.

.

Right ahead was the vampire's new nest, hidden in empty cottages of a long deserted village.

'If we're going to barge in on them, we should go now'. Bloody ashes, we're wasting time' muttered Greyback near, just on the other side of the Thestral. It was silent all around them, and very gloomy, maybe because of the trees, or maybe not.

Harry looked after Malfoy and saw him a little behind all others, taking something white from the saddle of his Abraxan horse.

Harry shivered seeing how the Malfoy ominous figure came right towards him.

'Can I count on you one more time, Mr. Potter?' demanded Lucius Malfoy, handing Harry the white silky material. And wasn't it so silky! Harry's fleeting thoughts were that they were bridal robes. _For girls._

Harry swallowed and answered. 'Of course'.

Lucius smiled his twisted smirk and went on. 'It's all part of the plan, of course.' He explained in his drawling slippery voice. 'I told the Dark Lord how much vampires adore young girls and especially the ones dressed in white. He agreed on this part of the plan when I told him I can find a suiting volunteer.

Harry's heart constricted upon hearing that the Dark Lord approved. He practically signed his death warrant! He didn't have anything more to say. He just focused on controlling his feelings.

Malfoy was still eyeing him closely. Harry changed his clothes with the white ones with a swish of his wand. They were long and flowing around him, with long sleeves, and trim and belt made of silvery silk. Only the leather soft boots remained black.

'And…one more thing' the blond wizard added cruelly, taking out a sharp polished knife. Suddenly Greyback immobilized Harry from behind while Malfoy tore through silk and skin with the pointy knife. Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming. Looking down, he saw the long wound across his shoulder and chest was shallow but very bloody. Soon rivulets of blood painted the silky robe in mesmerizing patterns. Harry wringed himself abruptly from Greyback's grasp, which became unbearable once the Werewolf had the scent of Harry's blood.

Harry threw a dark look at Malfoy. Ha! He managed to make Harry prey for two beasts, with only one move. Prey for the vampires and prey for the werewolves.

'We don't have time for your complaints now, Potter!' barked Malfoy at him, and taking him by the arm, he Apparated straight in the middle of the clearing and in full sight of the vampires, leaving him to stand there alone.

The _effrontery_ of the man!

'_COWARD! DAMN YOU_!' Harry shouted after him, but Lucius Malfoy was gone and Harry had to face the impending doom by himself. Or at least until he was saved by the other teams. But this time it was worse. He didn't know anything of the plans, where the other teams were situated or when they were attacking.

Harry could as well be a seemingly gift for the vampires, to provide as a distraction. And when they were finished with him…

Inhaling sharply, Harry tried to reorientate himself. It was too late. Blurry dark long shapes already emerged from the wall of trees and Harry didn't stay anymore to think where except 'Not there!' He ran as only he knew how, white robes flying, drops of blood flying...

He could hear them coming closer and closer but because of the speed he could only trust his feeling that they were _close_.

One of them already caught up with him and he turned around drawing out his wand and shouting with all his power:

'**BE GONE**!'

It wasn't exactly a spell incantation but the vampire was blasted into a tree nearly fifty meters away.

Harry was shocked and all stopped for an instant. But then, the vampires only chased him harder.

He was throwing every curse he knew over his shoulder and in the same time he was tearing through the trees, his silky apparel getting caught in the branches, hurting him and his wounds.

Soon he was out of breath but he still ran. He couldn't get caught!

It was only needed for one vampire to catch him, and he was done for. There was no apparition possible, because of the wards the other teams put, and he had nothing to fly with.

He stumbled and one grey shape almost took a hold of his ankle but he turned again and blasted it and the tree with a reducto. The forest started to burn.

A vampire came from the right. Another from the left.

Harry ran forward another fifty meters and jumped right into a team of fighters mounted on Thestrals who immediately took action against the vampires.

A light rain started to fall, cleaning Harry's sweaty face.

'YOU FOOL!" bellowed Snape, visibly angry. 'You weren't supposed to be here, you gave our position away!' All the others were smirking behind their hands at the bloody figure Harry made within their midst in that comical dress.

Only Draco was frowning at Severus.

Harry tried to regain his breath between mouthfuls of rain. The silk was clinging to his body and it was maddening. His wound was stinging.

'I-didn't –kn-know-you-were-here'..he panted and went to the side taking out the medicine from the holster. He peeled the bloodied silk from his shoulder and applied dittany to the wound. It healed very quickly.

Draco came right beside him.

'Need a hand?' '_Princess_?' he asked with a smirk curling his thin lips.

Harry took his warm slim hand and swung in the saddle behind him.

Leaning in bluntly he said in Draco's ear.

'You know why I am now like this, no? _Your father_.' Added Harry, a little upset.

'I know' replied Draco, giving Harry an apologetic look. 'You're fine now, though'.

Harry snorted.

'I was worried' confessed Draco.

'Hm, sure you were' said Harry, just a little bitter.

.

From then on, the battle continued from the sky. They put the forest ablaze and the smell of smoke rising was acrid in their mouths and yet they managed to purge the land with curses and fire.

It was done, and the vampires were gone.

Even Harry managed to blast some of them, but mostly he defended Draco's side and when it was over he joined Mr. Jeong when he saw him taking care of the wounded and started helping with healing.

Snickers were heard everywhere Harry was going but he was too busy to care. He would be soon out of the shaming silky garb anyway.

The face Lucius Malfoy made when he saw Harry was one of unpleasant surprise and Harry saw him suspiciously conversing with Severus Snape to a side. Harry tried not to imagine any nasty plans those two made about him.

*(*)*

Harry couldn't smile anymore. Everybody just came back from the battle and met in the charred clearing.

Harry was still clad in his white soaked robe and he was refusing to look at the Dark Lord. Because of that order, he could have been dead.

Once again, the _princess_ has been saved by Draco. Other times, it has been like this too. But other times, could it have been the Dark Lord also agreed for Harry to be bait?

_The opposite of love is not hate; it's indifference…_

Harry offered only a minuscule bow when the Dark Lord passed right in front of him, looking ruffled and bloodied, but with the blood of his enemies. ..

Harry knew that over the next few days he will eat, walk and behave like a zombie. Obsessive love had these consequences. He couldn't accept. His heart was tearing up because of pain. It was looking just like the ruined dress he now wore.

He often wondered what meaning his life had.

His green eyes darkened and burned, fixing the forest ground.

Everywhere he looked, his eyes burned. His throat hurt…

There were screaming cries around him but Harry wasn't hearing.

The clearing was again aflame, and grey robed wizards and vampires were attacking the Death Eaters.

Draco took off with the Thestral and shouted something at Harry, but the young man wasn't even seeing him.

Spells, of every colour were flying, sizzling, burning, blasting, killing people.

What was the meaning of Harry's life? Harry wondered. What did it gave _meaning_?

Who? The Dark Lord?!

Tears flowed now freely on his face. How long will he continue his life like this? He wondered how much a disappointment he was for his dead parents and for all they stood for, bravely. Their undeserving cruel assassination. Probably very big disappointment. Harry was what they were fighting against all their life, after all.

Harry was just a speck of white against hundred's of black and grey. By miracle, he wasn't hit with anything until he woke up from his wallowing in self pity.

He took note of everybody fighting around him with a start. Everybody was fighting desperately for their own lives. They were surrounded from all directions by vampires and also enemy wizards in grey rugged clothes. Harry noticed some kind of round symbol on their backs, which could have been a dragon, or a lizard. When did all these wizards came? It seemed that indeed, the vampires had wizards as allies, the rumor was true.

He swished the wand in an arc around him and murmured "Protego'.

They still had the upper hand though, as long as they had Thestrals, which the enemies didn't.

But it was Hell for who was on the ground.

Amazingly, the Dark Lord was also on the ground, not even ten meters away. The griffin was roaring all around and wreaking havoc into men and vampires but Harry's eyes were glued to the tall, imposing form of the wizard, fighting with agility and killing the enemies one by one.

He was blasting them, killing them, cutting them in halves, decapitating, killing with the bare hands, with the legs, and stepping on their dead bodies. Harry was morbidly fascinated. He doubted anything could bring him out of this dazed stupor.

But there were too many enemies. And behind falling corpses, only one less distinguishable rose up and managed to throw a purple jet at the Dark Lord.

Harry didn't wait to see what was going to happen.

His life didn't have meaning? It _had_.

The jet of purple blinding light hit him in the chest and he experienced sheer shocking agony.

But just for a moment, _and the princess in white silk fell face down in the mass of awaiting corpses, the tears still flowing on the grass…._

_._

* * *

AN: Really thank you for all the support from the last chapter, it really motivated me to write! This was a very quick update for me, i write quite slowly...

Now I have to go finish with the other story. I mean, when I wake up, cuz now I'm sooo sleepy, it's two in the morning. :D

I hope you like this chapter, and please tell me what you think, what is your impression/expectation :)

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4 - Misprising the Love

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: **HP/LV**

**AU Universe**

_AMOR NUNQUAM MORITUR_

**Chapter Four —Misprising the love**

**_Life is never as you want it as long as you don't dream it. To say that you have to plan it, it's maybe a little too much. You get to be enthralled by people, disillusioned by them, you follow other's desires and you sidetrack your way. Without knowing how and when it happened, you become old, you missed a lot of chances and you await your final moment to die. _**

_But to get what you want, you need to risk and to sacrifice. And I knew, if I was to follow my path of greatness as I desired from my youth, I had to sacrifice _love_. _

_It seems like a small sacrifice._

_But I wonder: what would happen if I would have chosen love? If all the mighty power I am gifted with, my youth and charisma, if they would be used in this risky manner, would I find some greater happiness? _

_I never regretted pursuing my destiny. But I wonder, what would be given to me if I had to choose love. Just to see, just to wonder. _

With these judicious words of a doubt plagued mind, the man closed his leather old journal. He was actually in his late twenties, but you couldn't give him an age, maybe because his looks was so statue like and beautiful that people gave him a younger age just out of good heart.

It was super hot in the desert, and the young man felt over clothed. What was fervently desired now was an oasis and the book with the Greek legends, to read under some tree. With this set thought, he Apparated in a much more pleasant green oasis and he took his place to read again all he could find interesting. He had some suspicions all the cultures were related somewhat, and he was looking for threads to sew. It was a good opportunity, as he was now near the pyramids in Egypt.

Well, indeed he found something worth noticing: Junona. By her description in the legends, she seemed like a very complicated goddess and not so good wife for Zeus, considering she was constantly plotting his demise. Yet there were some benefits: each day she took a bath in a primeval spring that was restoring her purity, making her desirable to Zeus. Tom scoffed at the possibility.

He avoided thinking of his followers back in England. He was due to return in a week and start the preparations to take over as a Dark Lord.

But before this, he was going to find a valuable something. That 'something' wasn't yet defined, it was the thing that must be the culmination of this seven year journey around the world, something to remember, a good omen, or a beautiful memory. He was getting tortured by the boredom of his life. His soul was seemingly as deserted as the desert around, inspiring only for more inner meditation.

He watched a pack of animals down the small river, lead by a blurry figure dressed in white. The camels spread around to drink, while the person came closer, picking some dark red fruits from the trees. Noticing Tom, the white clad figure head in his direction, undulating in the sun.

Tom caressed his wand, keeping it handy. He wasn't in no way shy of cursing anyone who stepped on his toes. He was even more unleashed outside of England.

He needn't worry though, he could see that the other young man was just curious.

It was a boy, seventeen of age maybe, dark haired with bronze like tanned skin and the most strikingly green eyes he had ever seen.

The boy watched him shyly, but curiously. He didn't seem to be a local of the zone, Tom thought, but right in that moment the unknown young man knelt in front of him and offered him the rest of the fruits that he picked before. He was surprised by the sudden gesture.

The younger's face was open and unspoiled. He was the kind of person that Tom could read to the bottom of his soul, as opposed so much to his own character.

Tom involuntarily offered a smile. He took one fruit, and watched avidly the angelic face in front of him. He wanted to ask his name but with a few short questions, he realized the boy didn't know a knut of English. So he asked in Arabic, the boy's name.

No answer. The boy indicated the sky, the trees, the water...

With a small peek in the green eyed boy's thoughts, helped by the Legilimency, Tom realized the boy grew up mostly alone, and he didn't know any language properly. He came indeed from a faraway land, found a little peace in the desert, and forgot the language.

With another incursion in that wild mindscape, Tom realized the boy found him attractive.

His lips curled again. He found him surprisingly attractive too...

_If I hadn't done it... At least for once, not to take anything for granted. How can something that looked so sweet and right in that time, become so bitter in the present?_

Tom eyed the sandy ground, where a solitary plant grew here and there, food for camels. He slowly approached the kneeling sitting boy, who became red in an instant. It was hot and they were alone. Tom stared at the white garment. He leaned in closer to the young green eyed boy, placing his hand on the bronze like tanned column of neck. Grasping the boy's chin tight, he inhaled deeply the sweet scent of innocence, sun and perspiration he found under the ear. It seemed it was a very sensitive spot/

The boy gasped and moaned, trying to shield his neck. And then he blushed and keened and screamed as the older wizard began undressing him confidently.

_I remember this hot day of eternal summer like it was yesterday. I liked that young pure young man, and he liked me. I took him possessively, than gently, with a rush of excitement which was completely new to me. I felt a different kind of alive, for the first time in my life. _

_It just seemed so unreal, the absolute trust I found in those haunting green eyes._

_I confess... I miss holding tightly that warm and pure body, draped over mine, turning him around and around, sinking him in the soft sand, sinking myself in...drowning in that sweet fruity mouth, brushing my hand in the midnight strong black hair that was reaching the bronze-like well shaped shoulders, inhaling the spicy scent of desert on the hot, tasty skin..._

_In that day we spoke the same language. _

That day, made the whole four years of traveling worthy. In the more hidden compartiment of his mind, the deep mindscape was occupied by the peaceful oasis and he was embraced tightly in the arms of the non speaking boy.

While becoming Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord, the mindscape didn't change at all.

And when he won over the Wizarding world, he was finally free to think more about that strange apparition from that day.

But the problem was, as much as he searched for that young man, when he went back on his tracks in Egypt, he couldn't find him anymore. Also, the boy was very unlike the locals of the region. Nobody responded affirmatively to have seen the unusual beautiful boy.

There was a chance that he had imagined everything. Yet he knew he wouldn't, he never made mistakes like this.

He badly wanted to have that green eyed young man back in his grasp. It has been a mistake to have left him to dress and leave. The memory was constantly coming back. No relationship lasted because of him, and it wasn't as if he _wanted_ it to last.

He wanted that one, that unmentionable, sweet boy.

When he realized he wouldn't find him again, the Dark Lord forced himself to forget about that incident, and go on with his life. It was only a one time strange occurrence. Or some strange curse. An illness, maybe.

Fighting in battles was the most thrilling thing that remained in his lifestyle. Voldemort was happy in battles and deadly for his enemies. He was powerful, and he needn't anybody. He was knowledgeable of the human nature, so he knew the selfishness, the attention seeking subjects at his disposal, ready to gut each other's throats for his appreciation.

And that was why he was so surprised of the gesture of that low level Death Eater from the Healing team, who took the knife in his chest, shielding him.

The picture of the white clad figure lying at his feet spurned the above memory in a fraction of a second. He was surprised at himself that he never noticed the resemblance until now.

The black haired, green eyed Harry Potter was very similar to that boy. He felt fear of loss, so deep and so acute for that figure lying down on top of the other corpses that he was petrified. He was unable to move.

A spell zipped near his temple, brushing his hair. He woke up from his temporary reminiscence daze, and he cursed his opponents around with a violence that bespoke of desperation.

Desperation to understand, to make sure that Harry Potter boy was not so similar to the young man he met long time in the desert. And the worst kind of anger, because he remembered about that incident, which he had struggled so much to forget. He was going to punish severely the boy when he eventually woke up...

* * *

AN. I'm in a half mind to remove this from here. Bah, I don't like it at all! I was thinking of what Voldemort was doing in his years after leaving Hogwarts and the Borgins and I was also terribly annoyed with some friend and this was the result. It's like an interlude about a fantasy of Tom in his travels. Somehow I've integrated it in the story, but it's not really important. I'll try update soon. Thank you so much for your support! It sure makes me motivated to write more XD

Review if you want to make me more happy! Also if you have some suggestion, you spot a mistake, you don't like something or you're confused. ^_^


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